


Simple Gifts

by Mirrormosa



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-28
Updated: 2015-09-28
Packaged: 2018-04-23 18:30:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4887259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mirrormosa/pseuds/Mirrormosa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After reaching the Hinterlands, Solas finds himself surprised by an act of kindness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Simple Gifts

Solas was tired. 

As Scout Harding had predicted, securing the Hinterlands from the templars and rebel mages had been no easy feat. The skirmishes had been quick, heated affairs but they had been numerous. However, the inquisition troops now seemed to have the immediate area well secured. With the immediate danger over, attention now went to stabilizing the camp. 

The conversation with the Chantry mother had thankfully been short. Ravens were swiftly sent back to Haven with news of their progress. Cassandra and the Herald took in the state of the camp and heard reports on the surrounding area. After consulting with Corporal vale, they decided to camp here for the night. They would continue on towards the Redcliffe farms and the elusive Fereldan horsemaster tomorrow. 

Assuming they could acquire the man’s herds, the newly formed inquisition would have mounts, a way to address the Chantry clerics, and a stable base of operations in the Hinterlands. It was a good start. 

The Seeker stepped away with Corporale Vale to survey the inquisition troops and supplies. The Dalish girl had chosen to stay behind with the cleric at the makeshift infirmary. 

A Dalish. And her Keeper’s First at that. Solas wondered that he could still be amazed by such devilish twists of fate.

At first, he assumed she had stayed to continue her conversation about the Chantry’s infighting with Mother Giselle. When the level of ambient magic in the area suddenly went warm and pliant it became obvious she was assisting the few healer mages instead. The few not caught up in the madness outside the barricades were overtaxed in tending to the wounded.

She was a puzzlement, this Dalish elf. Not at all as standoffish as the others of her kind that he had met. Gentle and exuberant by turns, she had a quick mind and, by what he had seen of her magic so far, a fair amount of skill. That she would use it to aid a group of humans relatively unknown to her was curious. 

The pull of the marks magic- his magic - coming to life was… disconcerting. A heightened awareness that was odd, but not unpleasant. The magic of the rebel mages they had passed was nothing but a distant whisper to him. They fumbled, pulling large handfuls of magic from the veil. Their lack of skill was irksome, but an annoyance that was easily ignored. 

Keeping his attention from the Dalish girl’s casting was a good deal more difficult.

She was not clumsy with her power. Solas could feel the small threads she coaxed from the fade. Through the mark, the magic carried notes of warm sunlight and damp soil. It was a unique essence he had come to associate with her more gentle castings. Healing then, or Keeper magic. 

Graceful as it was, her steady pull of magic was distracting. He found it difficult to keep up with the dwarf’s attempts at friendly banter. It was another new version of an old conversation - one Solas's had heard many times in his long life. The dwarf version was colorful at least. 

The dwarf, Varric, eventually excused himself, leaving him to his own devices. Solas made for the little grouping of tents that belonged to the inquisition. Finding the tent that had been set aside for their use, he settled down where he might find some solitude. 

The sun was well on it’s way to setting before the tug of her magic dwindled. As focused as he was on not paying attention to her, the sudden relief was welcome. Relaxing, Solas closed his eyes. Perhaps there was time for a brief meditation before the others joined him for the evening meal. 

only moments later, a gentle cough broke his concentration. Then again, he thought, perhaps not. 

Looking up, Solas saw the Herald leaning on her staff as she stood near the fire in front of their tents. She appeared tired, although not exhausted as she should after casting continuously since waking. 

Now that she had his attention, she offered a weary smile.

“I don’t suppose you have a Lyrium potion left after the day’s excitement, Solas?” she inquired. “I seem to be fresh out.”

Ah. Lyrium use would explain her seemingly deep reserves. 

“Of course” Solas replied. It took a moment to remove one of the potions from his discarded gear. She walked around the campfire and waited nearby for him to pass her one of the blue vials.

“Ma Serannas.” 

Then to his surprise, she moved closer and set her staff next to his against the tent wall. Returning to the fireside, she dropped the satchel she had been carrying on the ground. Bending, she carefully set the lyrium potion on top of the leather case. Straigtening up, she raised her arms and stretched her back and shoulders. Solas had a brief moment to admire her lithe form before she sat down next to him.

She unstoppered the potion, but set it down untouched. She pulled open her satchel and tipped out the contents. A jumble of yarn, thread, and leather strips tumbled out. Solas was quite sure the tangled mess had not traveled with them from Haven. Intrigued, he watched her tease a single piece of thin twine out of the mass. Reaching for lyrium potion, she slowly fed the twine into the bottle. Sealing the jar, she placed it closer to the fire and turned to the spilled contents of her pack. 

As if the Heralds presence was some kind of signal, the Seeker broke away from Corporal vale and approached their fire. Greeting them both, Cassandra unstrapped her shield and sword belt before joining them. Even sitting, she did not appear to fully relax. 

“I thought you would still be at the healer's tents, Herald” Cassandra remarked.

Solas doubted Cassandra noticed the Dalish’s slight sigh at the use of her title and not her given name. Her quick fingers still sorting out the tangle of leather and yarn in front of her. Still, she grinned across the fire at the seeker as she replied. 

“We’ve done as much as we can for now. Most are stable, so it’s just a matter of clean bandages, elfroot, and waiting. They need some time to rest. As do the healers. Which reminds me, Cassandra - we’ll need to replenish our lyrium potions before setting out for the farms. I used the last of my supplies on that last burn victim. I’ve had to resort to stealing from Solas.” 

“Well, we can’t have that, can we?” Varric joked, plopping down between the Seeker and the Herald. Solas smothered a sigh of his own. It appeared his chances of returning to solitude were now thoroughly dashed. 

“I’ll be sure to let our requisition officers know, Herald” Cassandra replied, ignoring Varric’s quip. Varric began setting out his own gear before noticing the mostly-sorted collection in front of the Herald. 

“What have you got there, Emmaera? Felt the need to organize poor Garrin’s stocks?”

Garrin? Was that the merchant’s name? 

“Pfft. Hardly. You should have seen his face when I asked him to shred a few of his pelts into strips.” She finally succeeded in separating out the leather and yarn lengths into separate piles. Yawning, she began coiling a few of the leather thongs around a slender hand. Emmaera chuckled softly before continuing. “10 to one odds some new rumor about the depravity of the Dalish passes around camp before morning.”

Varric joined in the laughter. “I know better than to take that bet, Herald. What do you think it’ll be this time?”

She chewed her lip and gazed at the fire thoughtfully for a few seconds. “I don't know...the murderous Dalish tie up helpless victims before roasting them alive? That one seems to be popular in Haven, according to Josephine.”

Setting aside the first spiral of leather, she began twisting a second bundle around the tips of her fingers.

“Hah! Surely you can get more creative than that?” Varric took out a rag and small jar of oil from his kit. With long, smooth strokes he began cleaning and oiling his crossbow. 

“Hmm...new scantily clad fashion statement?” she replied. The second, slightly smaller loop joined the first on the ground. Gathering the remaining bits of leather, she began to twist and braid them into short ropes. “We dalish apparently like showing a lot of skin…”

“Nah, too cold.” Varric raised the crossbow and checked the sight down the shaft. “What about -”

“It is a poppet, is it not?” Solas spoke the words before he knew what he was saying. The woven and crossed leather strips had begun to take on a recognisable shape.

Looking away from Varric, she met his gaze and offered him a surprised smile. Holding up her creation,the rough bones of the doll fwere easy to see. The body and head were formed by the two larger loops, with the remaining lengths forming the arms and legs. It was a chubby, squat poppet. An animal then, or maybe a dwarf. 

She wiggled the arms back and forth, making Varric chuckle, before lowering it back down to her lap. She began weaving and twisting the remaining bits of leather to fill out the head and body. 

Keeping her eyes on the poppet in her lap, Emmaera continued.

“It’s for one of the girls in the healer's tent. She lost her toy bear while fleeing the fighting.” 

Emmaera huffed softly and shook her head. 

“Why shem’s give their children cuddly versions of predators that would eat them is beyond me. Mother Giselle said she was having trouble sleeping without it.” 

Solas watched her twist the last of the leather strips into the body and limbs of the doll. Laying the poppet on her knee, she drew a long finger down the woven body, her face pensive. When she spoke, it was more to the fire than to any of her companions. 

“It’s been ages since I made a doll, and I’ve never made a bear. I’ve made a wolf a few times though, and I figured I could pass off a fat and cuddly wolf as a mabari.” 

Solas could see the flicker of a thought cross her features before she looked bat Varric, alarmed. “Fereldans do actually like dogs, right?” Her worried glance danced from Varric to Cassandra and then to his own. “I know everyone says they do, but i haven't seen any around the camp and just look at what they say about the Dalish -”

“I’m sure the girl will appreciate the gesture, Herald.” Cassandra reassured her.

“And I’ve yet to meet a Fereldan who dislikes dogs. I think you’re fine. ” Varric added, setting Bianca aside and repacking the oil and rag. 

“I hope so.” Emmaera's focus returned to the doll. She rub the doll between her fingers, adjusting the leather here and there. “She needs to sleep for the burns to heal. The nightmares after being attacked...maybe a furry protector will help.” 

Solas could see Varric’s eyes brighten as he leaned forward. Yes, dwarf, he thought, There’s a story there. But not one she would wish to share, I think. 

Solas spoke quickly, before Varric had a chance to ask whatever question he was concocting. 

“She seems to be sleeping soundly now.” He remarked. Indeed, there had been little noise coming from the healer’s tents since she joined him at the fire. 

She nodded.

“A temporary reprieve, I’m afraid.” The poppet was clearly unfinished, but she set it down in her lap as she replied. “I warded her sleep and gave her some valerian and embrium root. It knocked her out tonight, but I wouldn’t want a child that young to take more than an occasional dose.”

The mass of yarn still sat beside her, but she reached out and pulled the lyrium potion away from the fire. The firelight winked off of the glass as she unstoppered the bottle. 

“Hopefully this will help.” She said. 

Drawing the potion soaked string from the bottle, Emmaera set the potion by her knee. She quickly began tying the string into a series of complicated, twisted knots. They appeared vaguely familiar, but Solas could not place the designs. It wasn’t until she tied the last knot that he realized what she was crafting. 

Emmaera brought the ends of the string together in a crossing series of lines. Lines he recognized as one of Mythal’s lesser sigils. Looking back over the knots, he could recognize the stylized arches of other shapes. The runes for health, safety, and sleep lay twisted up in the string. Clever, clever girl.

Holding the little loop of knots, Emmaera closed her eyes. Solas felt her pull on the veil and draw a wisp of magic from the fade. The runes in the string started to glow gently as the magic charged them with mana. Solas could feel a slight waver in her magic, especially with her sitting so close. Focusing on his own magic, he steadied her pull and the little string twinkled in the firelight. Charging the runes may not have been a large spell, but it was likely the girl’s last until she rested. 

Cassandra, who had been looking on as Emmaera tied the knots, jerked back in surprise when the string began to glow. 

“I...did not know the Dalish had a version of the Formari talents.” 

It took a moment for Emmaera to respond. 

“Hmm?” she asked, letting the magic dissipate. “Oh, I’m no enchanter. It’s a little charm, for health and peace. I can't make it a permanent enchantment like the Formari. The magic fades after a few days or weeks. I’m hoping the lyrium will help keep the charms active a little longer.”

It would, and the lyrium would make it more than a 'little' charm. A subtle but strong ward to guard against nightmares that would last for weeks before fading into gentle soothing for a troubled child. The weave was skillfully made and well wrought for being so simple a thing.

Emmaera tucked the still glowing threads into the body of the doll. Twisting the leather, she covered the charm until the glow was completely hidden. Reaching fir the remaining threads, she began wrapping the doll in a soft layer of woolen yarn. 

Curious again, the Seeker asked “Why hide the charm? Surely the child will not care.”

Emmaera’s hands made quick work of the wrapping, following a similar pattern to the Dalish leg guards she wore. Her lips set into a firm line as she thought about Cassandra’s question. 

“But her parents might.” Emmaera finally replied, voice tight. “They’ve lost everything because of magic. what tolerance they might have felt about magic before the fighting...well. It’s likely gone now. A doll they might accept. But a glowing magical string made by a heretical Dalish apostate? If she hadn’t been so badly hurt - and the human mages so depleted - I doubt they would have let me near enough to say ‘Mythal enaste’.” 

“I suppose you’re right” Cassandra conceded. 

The group lapsed for a few minutes watching the inquisitor yawn through the last of the knotwork. Placing the finished poppet in her lap, Emmaera took out two small black buttons. Buttons that Solas recognized as belonging to her spare travelling shirt. With a few pulls of a needle and thread, she sewed on the button eyes. The mabari finished, she turned the poppet around for her companions to see. 

Varric and Cassandra made appreciative noises, and even Solas had to agree the toy would appeal to a young child. It was all soft limbs and big eyes. 

Smiling at the praise, Emmaera set the poppet down and picked up the lyrium potion. Saluting them all with the vial, Emmaera downed the contents. Solas felt the flickering waver of her magic even out as the lyrium steadied her mana. 

Her face screwed up in a little moue of distaste. 

“Ugh,” she said with a shiver, “that is truly vile. I have no idea how the mages and templars stomach the stuff.”

“Well, Button,” Varric chuckled, “I guess you can always ask one of them on our way out to the farms.”

**Author's Note:**

> A little drabble. Feedback always welcomed!


End file.
